adoration
by Vieux
Summary: ["I knew he didn't love me, but I adored him anyway] Historical!AU Ushijima x Shirabu with A/B/O dynamics and magical powers: in which Shirabu realizes how little he knew about the darkness behind Shiratorizawa's power. Ushijima can concur.


_There just isn't enough Ushijima/Shirabu fanfiction in this world. Most of the Ushira interaction will be coming later, after I establish things, and while Semi may seem a bit mean in this... well, you'll understand later. Eventually. I just really felt the urge to post something today._

 _So here, have a Magical!AU, A/B/O dynamics, and a Historical!AU ushijima x Shirabu fanfiction. If you ever get confused, there's stuff in the A/N at the end to clear things up._

* * *

 _I knew he didn't love me,_

 _But I adored him anyway._

* * *

The taste of blood filled Shirabu's senses as the large hand collided with his right cheek, and his teeth accidentally sank into the soft, fleshy part of his inner mouth.

"You think my money is a game, do you?"

With his head dropped towards the ground, all Shirabu could see was the pointed black velvet shoes of the alpha noble he had angered with his bold and risky moves in the strategy arena that afternoon.

Biting his tongue and swallowing the blood from his cheek, Shirabu nodded. "No sir. I understand I was wrong, sir."

The pudgy hand rose again to grab at Shirabu's hair one last time. The man leaned in close enough for Shirabu to smell his disgusting, pungent alpha breath. "I should hope you do, you insolent brat. Why the emperor even kept you in the first place is a mystery. If I had a magic-less, dumb omega like you for a son, I would have tossed your body into the river without a second thought."

Shirabu forced down his humiliation. "Of course, sir."

The noble straightened up and sniffed, letting go of Shirabu's hair and leaving him with a stinging scalp. "Well, at least you didn't lose. No more risky moves brat."

"I didn't think they were risky," Shirabu muttered defiantly. He earned another blow to the same cheek for his comments.

"Shut your trap, boy, or I'll throw your rotten carcass to the dogs as soon as no one's looking." Shirabu grit his teeth and bit his lip to stop himself from retorting. He forced out a stiff nod. Apparently satisfied, the nobleman left the room, shutting the door with a bang.

Every first Saturday of the month, the empire would hold a battle tournament in the capital in which people of all ages would compete in various positions. Caught up in his desire to see Ushijima's next matches, Shirabu had made two critical miscalculations, and he had been forced to make a few risky moves the next round as a result. He'd still won in spite of it all, but clearly, the nobles who had participated in the betting pool weren't too pleased with him. Because his odds had been so high to begin with, many of them had invested large sums of money, and to see him make any mistakes had likely caused more than a few heart attacks within the crowd.

But it had been worth it. Shirabu could vividly recall the way that Ushijima's arms had flexed right before he slammed his opponent into the dirt ground: the way that Ushijima had moved to avoid an incoming spear, and the way that his hands had tightened around the hilt of the impossibly heavy sword. He remembered the powerful, explosive pulses of magic that Ushijima had used to knock down his enemies before they could even approach him. Yes, it was undeniable that Ushijima's fighting gave a new meaning to the word strength—his magic embodied a sort of raw beauty that Shirabu was positive he would never see again. A raw beauty that he could never have for himself.

The door opened, and Shirabu jerked his head up.

"Hey Shirabu, are you going to the dinner that- Woah," Taichi cut himself off, frowning. "What happened to your face?"

Shirabu scoffed. "Angry nobles. You know the routine."

Taichi raised a brow. "Another one with a spear stuck up their ass?" He shut the door quietly behind him.

"If you insist on putting it so crassly, then yes," Shirabu shrugged. "And I have to go to the dinner, even if I don't want to."

"It's not as if the emperor ever acknowledges us," Taichi complained. "We just sit down at the long table and look pretty, like dolls in the emperor's collection. Although, tonight might be different for you. This is your, what, twentieth win?"

"Twenty-fifth," Shirabu corrected automatically. "And that's the point, isn't it? We wait for the uppers to finish their affairs, and we sit there in case they need entertainment."

"You're used to sitting still, being a royal strategist and all. I need to move around and get fresh air," Taichi exclaimed. "Also, visit the infirmary, that's bruising and swelling awfully." He gestured to Shirabu's right cheek, which was already starting to turn an ugly purple color.

"I'm heading down now, as soon as I change out of these horrid robes. I hope Semi isn't there tonight," Shirabu grumbled. "I'm not sure I can handle him and Tendou at the moment." Shirabu undid his sash and shrugged off his robes, gesturing at Taichi to search for a more comfortable pair in the communal wardrobe to the left.

Taichi rolled his eyes, tossing Shirabu the royal purple clothes that the emperor had provided specifically for formal gatherings. "Of course he'll be in attendance. He follows Tendou and Ushijima everywhere. But that's not the important point. I came to warn you."

Shirabu cocked a brow. "About?"

"The emperor. He's planning something big tonight, I know it. I heard him and her royal highness speaking about it in the meditation chamber today."

"Why were you eavesdropping on their time in the meditation chamber?" Shirabu frowned.

Taichi waved his hand dismissively. "Not important. What _is_ important is…." He looked around and leaned in closer. "….I heard them say your name."

Shirabu blinked. "That's all?" He yawned, unimpressed.

"Well,

"Not particularly, but thank you anyways. They probably just dropped a side comment on my performance. Nevertheless, I will be on guard tonight."

"You're still a prince, you know. If I were you, I wouldn't put up with his behavior from anyone, noble birth or not."

Shirabu sighed. Taichi hadn't been born in the palace: a peasant child-turned-bellboy, he still had the cold determination that characterized children born outside the world of luxury. At the same time though, Shirabu could sense a sort of naiive innocence in his rough determination: he wasn't yet aware of what the palace politics were truly like. "I'm a minor prince, remember?"

Taichi wrinkled his nose slightly. "You say that everytime, but I don't see how that matters. Major prince or not, you're still related to the Emperor."

Shirabu just shook his head. "Not how it works, remember?" He laughed. "Now, if I were Ushijima on the other hand…"

Taichi snorted. "No one would dare hit you in the first place if you were Ushijima. He could probably take any noble down with a single fist. No, just a single finger!"

"That, and he's the _Crown Prince_ ," Shirabu rolled his eyes. "Lifting a finger against Ushijima would be like betraying Shiratorizawa. It would probably be grounds for immediate execution."

"True. Betrayal is the worst," Taichi frowned.

Shirabu almost smiled ruefully. Even those from the outer lands were patriotic to the bone. He had never been able to understand the deep patriotism that ran through everyone's veins. When he was young, he had chalked his lack of such emotion down to neglect from his parents, and when he was just old enough to read the long strategy books in the library he had spent most his time wondering if there was something genetically or psychologically wrong with him, but now he had learned to accept it.

"Come on, let's get going or else you'll be late." Taichi's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

As they left the room, Shirabu stared at the small celestial sphere spinning on the desk. Hopefully nothing bad would come of the Emperor's plans.

/

Kneeling at the Queen's feet, Shirabu forced himself to focus on the golden embroidery of the floor rug, trying to ignore the obvious stares he could feel on his back. He was dismissed, and when he returned to his seat, Shirabu groaned silently when he noticed Semi's seat across from his, denoted by a neatly embroidered silver placard. Just his luck.

Semi slid into his seat just moments before the dinner was set to begin. Shirabu blinked in surprise when he saw Semi glare at him, and then look down at his plate. Shirabu frowned. Unless Semi was considering a new career as a porcelain artist, something was probably upsetting him. Then, the emperor gestured to one of his personal servants, who tapped the celestial staff twice on the ground, backing off into the shadows again as the room faded into silence.

"Before we begin our meal, I believe that some congratulations is in order," he declared. "Semi Eita has decided to step down from his position as the royal strategic advisor of Shiratorizawa. His duties and title will be succeeded by my younger son Shirabu Kenjirou. News of his prowess has no doubt spread far throughout the land, and I believe we may expect great things of him. The official ceremony will take place next week at dawn." The king sat down slowly as applause surrounded him.

 _What? No, this isn't happening._

Despite having waited his entire life for this moment, the spontaneity of it all made Shirabu's mouth dryer than sawdust.

 _Semi would never have given up his position. So why? How? What did Semi do? Who is responsible for this? When did they make the decision?_

There were too many unanswered questions. Namely, why was it being announced now, and why had they decided to keep Shirabu in the dark about it all?

He struggled to swallow, and he nearly passed out until he realized that silence had cloaked the room as people waited for him to speak.

He rose deliberately, attempting to adopt his usual mask of calmness before taking a deep breath to steady his voice. "Thank you all for the warmest of welcomes. I vow, on my honor as a citizen Shiratorizawa, to faithfully serve the king, along with this kingdom, until my body and mind are no longer able. I will look to Semi for guidance along the way, and I hope to quickly make up for my inexperience and incompetency. Thank you." He bowed stiffly before sitting back down, his short and hasty statement met with another wave of polite applause.

"Now now Shirabu, save the vows for next week," the King boomed heartily before he reached for his wine goblet. "To Shirabu."

"To Shirabu!" the nobles at the table chanted after him.

The King raised his goblet higher still. "To our strength!"

"To our strength!" Shirabu mouthed the words: he didn't trust his voice to stop shaking yet, and no one would notice his apparent silence when there were at least forty other people around.

"To Shiratorizawa!" With that, the King took a long gulp—a signal for everyone else to do the same. As Shirabu drank from his goblet, he hoped that the bitter barley-water that he had requested in the place of wine was not a taste of everything to come.

As the meal began, Shirabu resigned himself to his fate: sandwiched between two of his half-brothers, and across from Semi, he was not in his preferred seating arrangement. Far from it, in fact.

"Congratulations, Shirabu!" A voice to his left piped up. "I guess you'll be serving the King then… but everyone knows that you're really going to be serving Ushijima."

At that, Shirabu's ears perked up. He pushed down his emotions and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Who told you _that_?" He turned towards Goshiki, the youngest and most irritating of all the princes.

Goshiki smiled proudly. "I heard some of the servants gossiping in the halls."

"What in the world were you doing in the servant halls?" Ichirou, one of the minor princes, shifted in his seat to join their conversation.

"Why shouldn't I?" Goshiki frowned.

Ichirou scoffed. "You're too recognizable. Everyone knows you. Gossip in the palace spreads fast, you know. Wouldn't want people lumping you with the wrong kind of crowd."

Goshiki innocently tilted his head. "Why would I not want people—"

Ichirou interrupted him with a sigh, clearly giving up. "Nevermind. How are the potato wedges tonight?"

Shirabu picked politely but mindlessly at his seaweed salad, lost in thought. In a world where magical ability was so very important, he and Ichirou would never be able to rise through the ranks. People outside of their own small bubble would likely never remember them, and their names would never go down into the ever-growing set of scrolls that documented the kingdom's most noteworthy historical figures. Being born with magic, Goshiki wouldn't know anything about the palace's dog-eat-dog world of sticking around the strong and trying to determine whose robes to kiss next, trying desperately to climb out of the hole they were born into. No, he'd had the world handed to him on a silver platter before he'd even opened his eyes.

Minor and major princes were raised almost entirely separately, allowed only to see each other during official ceremonies. And even then, the two groups usually stuck to themselves, with intermingling heavily discouraged. Shirabu suspected that the only reason Goshiki was sitting with them today was because the King's advisor had either run into major seating issues (unlikely), or (more likely) because Goshiki was too young to be of particular importance, especially when there were plenty of well-educated, magically-endowed princes in line before him.

Shirabu had spent most of his early life in the western wing that all the 20 minor princes had to share. Every single area was common space, from the dining hall to their sleeping quarters. While luxurious, Shirabu had often found himself willing to trade his goose-feather pillows and fresh cotton sheets for a small, drab room that he could call his own. He had heard from Taichi and the other minor princes that all the major princes had their own quarters, but then again, none of them had ever had the privilege to be invited into anyone's, so no one could say for sure. The princesses had less of a division, although Shirabu was certain that one still existed.

Growing up in the same small wing of the palace meant that all the minor princes knew each other- a great feat considering how many of them there were. They ate, slept, studied, and played together most of the time. Shirabu had never been particularly close with any of them, however—he'd always had brain over brawn, preferred reading over rough-housing, and most of all, hated going outside. The elements annoyed him. Rain ruined scrolls, and the sun beat down so heavily during summer that the one time Shirabu _had_ gone outside (Taichi had forced him), he had sported a red peeling face for more than two weeks. Taichi called him delicate, but Shirabu preferred to think of himself as _sophisticated._

But he could remember staring at the stars and _praying_ , wishing _so desperately_ to have even a spark of magic. Then, he would be promoted to a major prince and allowed to do anything he pleased.

Shirabu frowned deeper, pushing around his tofu. That just reinforced the oddity of his sudden promotion. He looked up to ask Semi a question, when suddenly the King rapped on his goblet to ask for silence. "One of the royal messengers has returned with critical reports on Seijoh and Karasuno. A diplomat from Seijoh will be arriving soon to proceed with discussions about the border. Because of such urgent matters, I have decided to end the dinner early. Please retire to your quarters and enjoy the rest of your night. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"I wonder what kind of information as urgent enough to end dinner early," Shirabu mused aloud as people around him immediately erupted into chatter. He pushed through the crowd and tried to find Taichi.

"No idea." Shirabu jumped as Taichi's voice sounded in his ear from behind him. "Sorry for scaring you," Taichi smiled languidly. He didn't look the least bit sorry.

"You didn't scare me. Come on, let's get out of here." Then he saw Semi out of the corner of his eye trying to slip away. "Wait no, let's go this way." Dragging Taichi along, he slid after Semi.

"Semi," he called. "Semi!"

"What?" Semi snapped, finally breaking and turning around. "Come to rub your victory in, have you?"

"No, what did you even do?" Shirabu hissed as they hurried along the hallway. "You must have done something really bad for the King to just… replace you."

"I know right?" Semi sighed, the dim lighting leaving most of his face in shadow.

"So what did you do?" Shirabu pressed.

"…"

"Steal from the treasury? Bed one of the King's concubines? Betray Ushijima?" Taichi rattled off a few ridiculous guesses.

"No!" Semi stopped and whipped around, his face filled with a surprising anguish. Shirabu took an unconscious step back. "I didn't do _anything!_ All I do is go to sleep, and when I wake up, a messenger is standing at the foot of my bed telling me that I don't have my job anymore!"

"They're still keeping you around, aren't they?" The royal family wouldn't get rid of someone like Semi so quickly.

"Of course," Semi snapped. "So what did you do? And tell your bellboy to keep quiet about this conversation." Taichi rolled his eyes.

"What? I haven't been _plotting_ behind your back to steal your job from under your nose," Shirabu snapped.

"Don't give me any of that," Semi hissed. "Everyone knows how much you've coveted after the royal strategic advisory position and your obsession with Ushijima. I don't know what you did, but you must have done something. They would never give the post to a magic-less omega."

Shirabu felt his face burn, and forced himself to steady his tone before he spoke. "Yes, I've wanted your job," he said slowly, "but I would never have done anything improper to get it."

Semi scoffed. "Say what you will."

Shirabu shrugged. "Believe what you will. Come on Taichi, let's go to bed."

They turned away into another corridor, and when Semi was out of earshot, Taichi spoke. "Something's really ruffled his feathers, hm?"

"Well his life is slightly ruined, so yeah," Shirabu muttered.

Arriving back in the sleeping room, Shirabu found most of the other princes already in their beds. He slowly splashed water onto his face, bade Taichi goodnight (the servant quarters were still a ways down the hall), and sank into an uneasy sleep.

/

/

"Shirabu. Semi will mentor you for three weeks to pass on the quirks of his duties. I expect that will be enough time for you to adjust?" Washijou was the primary man behind the palace's assignments, and Shirabu had heard enough about him to know that he had little tolerance for sub-par workers in need of assistance.

"Of course. Three weeks is more than enough."

"Good. During battle, you will remain in the main tent with the generals and strategize. However, you will have duties even when we are not at war. You are to follow the crown prince into his diplomacy meetings and serve as his political advisor. The King may occasionally call you in for an audience if his royal highness requires advice, but do not expect it. You will also be expected to… keep the prince in _line_."

"I understand."

"If you have any objections, raise them now rather than later."

"No objections, sir."

"Excellent. You will also be expected to learn any of the skills that your training as a minor prince perhaps glossed over. Make sure to attend your lessons everyday, and do as Semi says." With that, Washijou turned on his shoulder and left, his purple robes billowing behind him.

"Well come on. I'll take you to meet Ushijima."

Shirabu felt giddy with excitement, and something in his stomach fluttered.

Semi scoffed. "Get that giddy little happy expression off of your face. He doesn't even know you."

Shirabu swallowed and tried to steel his expression, but his lips still twitched slightly. "So?"

Semi sighed. "God, you're disgustingly obsessed."

That made Shirabu frown. "I'm not _obsessed_. I just think that Ushijima is the strongest in our entire kingdom. No one can match him in ability, magical or physical."

"Well, no one that we've found yet. They say Goshiki has potential," Semi remarked as they walked down a set of corridors that Shirabu had never had the privilege of even knowing about.

Shirabu snorted. "Oh please, who are they trying to fool?"

Semi suddenly stopped. "This is Ushijima's study. You'll have to spend some time memorizing these parts of the palace, since you've never been here before."

Shirabu scowled at the obvious pass Semi was making at his lower status. "Oh? How do you know I've never been here?"

"Oh, is little Shirabu mad?" Semi taunted. "Maybe if you acted more like a prince and less like a peasant child gaping in wonder at the luxury of his superiors I would believe you."

Shirabu gritted his teeth. "Don't you have any maps?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course not."

"Oh, in case of an invasion or security breach?"

Semi nodded curtly. "Good, now go through that thought process first before you try opening your mouth again." Before Shirabu could retort, he raised his hand and knocked on the door. "Ushijima, I've brought your new strategist."

"Come in." Ushijima's voice was a deep alpha timber that Shirabu just knew would someday command entire fleets of ships and batallions of soldiers.

"After you," Semi muttered, opening the door.

Shirabu slowly stepped inside. Ushijima sat at a desk with an eagle quill in his hands. Shirabu immediately bowed. "Shirabu Kenjirou, 21st son and new royal strategist of the King. I will be in your guidance." He heard Semi snort quietly from behind him, but he kept his eyes trained on Ushijima.

"Ushijima Wakatoshi. 17th son and crown prince of Shiratorizawa. I will appreciate your service." Ushijima held out his hand, and Shirabu shook it. Ushijima's skin was warm and his eyes were a deep, dark ochre. Everything about him screamed _Alpha male_ —a sharp jawline, dark eyes, a muscular build, and a tall stature.

They stared at each other.

"Well, now that you've been acquainted, I'll give you your list of tasks for the day and take my leave." Semi interrupted the moment. "Shirabu, minor princes have minimal education in history and foreign relations, so a royal tutor will be meeting you in the north study at 10:00. Your lesson will last until 1:00. You will go riding with Ushijima and I at 2:00, and you will have etiquette classes from 4:00 until 5:00 in the northern quadrant of the grounds. Tonight, Washijou and I will run through all of the basic strategy games with you to assess your strengths and weaknesses. That is all. Any questions?"

"No."

Ushijima shifted. "Excellent. I will see you at 2:00 this afternoon then."

As a minor prince, Shirabu recognized a sign for dismissal immediately, and bowed again before leaving the room. Semi shut the door behind them.

"So what are you going to do?" Shirabu asked.

"Well, I have to follow you around. King's orders," Semi grumbled. "Just get through your ass through your lessons properly and I'll be able to rest sooner."

/

The history lessons we're boring.

In fact, they were so boring that Shirabu quickly abandoned his plan to act ignorant for the sake of making Semi suffer—not that he would have gone through it in the first place: ignorance was the bane of his existence.

Yes, most minor princes didn't have particularly in-depth lessons, but Shirabu had grown up with no one but the books for comfort. He had fallen asleep in the library more times than anyone cared to count, and he'd long cruised through most of the books. The castle library was still his favorite place—it was probably the one place that even a minor prince could have access to.

"So, I hear that you are the new royal strategist, Shirabu. It's a pleasure to be working with you." His history tutor was a kind old man. "I will do my best to explain the complexities of historical events, and in turn I wish you all the best."

"Likewise, I will do my best to learn." Shirabu bent in a stiff bow.

"Well let us begin with a few preliminary questions. How much do you know about the history of Shiratorizawa Kingdom, and its relation to the empire of Miyagi?"

Shirabu caught Semi's eye. His glance clearly said, _you better know something so we can get out of this lesson sooner._ Semi was in luck: he would be pleasantly surprised.

"Well sir…" Shirabu cleared his throat. "A bit, I suppose." He launched into a detailed retelling of the kingdoms that composed Miyagi. Shiratorizawa, Karasuno, Aoba Josai, and Dateko were the biggest ones. He explained the historical rivalries between the kingdoms, and referenced most of the key battles that put Shiratorizawa as the empire capital. When he reached Karasuno, after explaining Seijoh's foreign policies, he used the infamous Karasuno-Nekoma rivalry as a launch pad into Miyagi's rivalry with the Tokyo empire.

"And I would say that is the gist of it," he finished, unable to keep the grin off of his face at Semi's shock.

"Well well Shirabu, that was excellent!" his teacher smiled kindly. "Far beyond my expectations." He then looked to Semi. "I'm not sure there's much I can do for you at this point. Perhaps you would like me to report to Washijou and have your schedule adjusted slightly? It would do you good to take a few walks around the palace grounds."

"Yes yes, that would be nice," Semi grinned. "I suppose we all get a break this morning then." With that, he grabbed Shirabu's arm and dragged him out of the room.

"So now what?"

"Now we get a break of course. Finally managed to do something right, didn't you," Semi snorted, but Shirabu could hear the grudging respect in his voice. "Where'd you learn all that in the first place?"

"Oh, you know. Lessons and stuff."

"I'm damn sure that lessons for minor princes aren't teaching you like that. So where are you getting the help?"

Shirabu shrugged. "Read a bit here and there. Listened to people talk."

"I see. What a bookworm you are," Semi sneered.

Shirabu rolled his eyes. "Well if you don't mind me, I think I'll be returning to my quarters to enjoy my time _alone_. No need to stick around those we hate."

At that, Semi stopped and spun around, serious. "Oh, I forgot to mention. You won't be living in the western wing anymore. You'll be moving into your own quarters in the northern wing."

Shirabu blinked in surprise. "…My own quarters?"

It was Semi's turn for an eyeroll. "Yes your own quarters. They're not going to make the royal strategist _share_ , you idiot. I'll even help you move whatever belongings you have just because I'm such a nice person."

Shirabu knew it wasn't because Semi was nice. Semi was just curious about what the west wing was like, and was too embarrassed to admit it. "Are you sure? A nobleman's first son like you shouldn't be seen amongst minor princes," he taunted.

"You exaggerate. The palace is the palace, and a prince is a prince after all. Even if he does dress and act like a peasant," Semi sniffed, casting Shirabu a disdainful look.

/

/

Shirabu didn't need Semi's help. He owned very little, even for a minor prince. But seeing as the other boy had offered (although not out of the goodness of his heart), Shirabu decided to take pity on him. "Here, you can carry these." He shoved a stack of scrolls into Semi's arms.

"That's it? Come on, give me some heavier things," Semi complained. "Or do you not own anything else? Who would have thought that proud Prince Shirabu lives like a monk?" Semi smirked.

"I don't think you can handle it. Carrying around a head as big as yours must be exhausting," Shirabu spat.

"Oh yes, it's quite exhausting because of how heavy my head is. Crammed full of knowledge, you know. Yours must be quite light because of its emptiness. What a relief for you."

If Shirabu wasn't sure that it would cost him his job, he would have struck Semi in the face at that moment. Instead, he opted for anger management by angrily ruffling through his bedside drawer and pulling out a few small wooden boxes, one of which Taichi had given to him last year.

"So all of you sleep in one room?" Semi sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yes, something wrong with that?" Shirabu snapped.

"Lay your feathers flat now, I'm just taking a look around," Semi drawled. "The beds are a bit small, don't you think?"

Shirabu ignored him. What would a rich pompous bastard know about anything?

"Not moving anything else?" Semi cocked a brow, eyeing the small brown sack that Shirabu had fit all of his possessions into.

"Wouldn't trust you with most of my things," Shirabu scoffed, lying through his teeth.

"If you insist. You'll have to move them yourself later then. Come on, we don't have all day."

/

Shirabu's new quarters were large- easily as big as the communal sleeping quarters in the West Wing. They were also next to Ushijima's, for the sake of convenience. Semi's voice held a bitterness in it as he helped Shirabu become situated in his new rooms, and Shirabu wondered if perhaps Semi had lived here just a night ago. Semi unceremoniously dumped the scrolls onto Shirabu's desk. "Your new robes are in the wardrobe, by the way."

"New robes?"

Semi looked down at Shirabu's current state of dress disdainfully before sneering, "His royal highness wouldn't want his advisor to run around like a little peasant farmer boy, would he?"

Shirabu bristled; the robes he was in were already some of his best. Semi threw open the wardrobe to reveal bright purple and white fabrics, most embroidered with delicate eagle-amongst-clouds patterns. When he reached out and stroked the sleeves, he realized that they were silk, except for the last set of robes, which were made of the traditional heavy material. "Why—"

"Figured someone of your tiny stature wouldn't be able to wear robes made of the more traditional materials probably if you ask me," Semi snorted. "Or it's a reminder that no matter how close you think you are, you'll never be in the palace's true elite for more than a moment."

It was more likely the latter. Class distinction was extremely important in the palace: minor princes tended to wear cotton or fabric robes, more brightly-colored and higher-quality than peasant clothing. Only members of the Royal family were allowed to wear purple and white, of course, with those two being the two sacred colors of the kingdom. Palace elite wore robes of a mystical, heavy material that Shirabu had never really looked into. Semi's robes were made of that material. Shirabu could tell just by looking at them.

"You're probably supposed to wear the nice set when you have formal dinners, diplomacy meetings, and public kingdom gatherings."

Shirabu nodded. "

"Well, I'm off," Semi yawned. "No time to babysit you any longer."

As soon as Semi left, Shirabu shut the wardrobe doors and headed to the library. He took a few wrong turns, but managed to make it there eventually. He tugged his platinum pocket watch, his most prized possession, from his sleeves and checked the time. Almost 12:00. He had two hours. Settling into a quiet, isolated corner, he lit one of the gas lamps and curled up with his collection of scrolls that he had plucked from the shelves on his way.

By 1:00, his stomach was growling loudly. Shirabu hesitated. Semi never specified which dining hall he would be eating in now. Logic dictated that he should now be eating amongst the major princes and other palace elite, but if he presumed and was wrong…. It would be better to just not eat, Shirabu supposed, then to have to sit amongst hostile castle hawks that would judge his every movement and spread gossip about him at every available opportunity.

/

"Unbelievable. Simply unbelievable," Semi growled, throwing his hands up in the air. "You don't know how to mount a horse?"

"I'm sure it doesn't take that much knowledge," Shirabu snapped defensively, feeling his face heat as he registered Ushijima's gaze trained on the two of them. "I've just never actually _done_ it before."

"It's alright. He will pick it up soon enough, I assume." Ushijima stepped in. "I will help him for today." He leaned down and effortlessly plucked Shirabu off of the ground, placing him on his horse, a beautiful creamy bay. "If you've never ridden before, it's better to start off slow," Ushijima decided.

"You're too nice," Semi grumbled as he perfectly mounted his own horse, a half-black half-white mare that had snapped at Shirabu the moment he had stepped too close. It suited Semi perfectly. "We should go up the mountain trail," Semi suggest casually as he settled comfortably onto his saddle.

Ushijima nodded. "If you wish. I wasn't aware that you were fond of that path. It's rather difficult on windy days for those who lack balance."

"It's a new interest of mine," Semi smirked, challenging Shirabu with his gaze. "And I think our lovely apprentice here would enjoy the challenge.

"Shirabu will ride in the middle when we reach the narrow mountain pass. It will ensure that we all stay together."

Shirabu swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, we wouldn't want the youngest among us to fall behind, now would we," Semi drawled.

Shirabu scowled at that. "I know the basics of riding, thank you very much," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"In theory," Semi jeered. "Your scrolls and research won't help you now, peasant boy. Riding is entirely about instinct and experience."

"Well, I'm sure I'll catch up to you quickly," Shirabu hissed.

"Careful, don't squeeze your horse so hard when you start that it leaves you behind!" Semi taunted.

Ushijima started his horse, a sleek black mare, without glancing back at them. Heart pounding, Shirabu gave his horse a light squeeze with his legs, praying to the gods that he would move. Thankfully, his horse obeyed, beginning to trot forward steadily. He pulled up so he was only slightly behind Ushijima.

Their ride was mostly silent for awhile. Shirabu spent the time trying not to fall off of his horse.

"You're making her nervous," Ushijima suddenly noted without turning his head. "Don't hold too tight."

"What?" Shirabu jumped, nearly slipping.

"The reins. You're holding them too tightly and she can feel it."

Blinking, Shirabu forced his arms to relax a bit, and surprisingly, his horse seemed to relax as well, tossing her beautiful mane.

"And I thought that omegas were supposed to be _good_ with animals," Semi barbed, pulling up next to them.

"And I thought that Alphas were supposed to be strong," Shirabu retorted.

"Weak response," Semi crowed.

The ride was going horribly, even by Shirabu's standards. Twice he had gotten so close to losing his balance and falling off that he had had to lean forward and grip the horse's neck. Another time, Semi had casually let the end of his riding jacket flutter out, caught in the wind, and Shirabu's horse had had a field day, rearing nearly vertical. Ushijima had taken control in the end, firmly gripping the reins and holding the horse in place until she calmed down.

Semi pulled up next to Shirabu, who was about three horse-lengths behind Ushijima. "So, enjoying playing princess?"

"Do you need something?" He spat.

"If you want me to stop, you could just resign. Or just ask me to stop," Semi smiled nastily.

"I would never," Shirabu snapped.

"You should stop lusting after Ushijima, you know."

"Pardon me, _what?_ " Shirabu nearly fell off of his horse again.

"Hm?" Semi faked innocence. "It's not like no one notices, you know. I wouldn't follow him around so closely if I were you. I'm sure he must appear as a delicious alpha to desperate omegas"—here Semi gives him a pointed look—"But he's already taken, you know?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Shirabu scoffed, ignoring the tugging inside his chest. "I just admire him, that's all."

"Don't be ridiculous." Semi throws Shirabu's own words back at him now. Then, he leans so close that Shirabu can feel his breath puff. "I've seen it happen before. Ushijima doesn't need another admirer or a useless omega fawning over him. What he needs is a proper strategist, and if you can't be that, then you should quit sooner rather than later." With that, Semi straightened up and pulled his horse away from Shirabu's again.

When they finally returned to the palace stables (Shirabu had no idea how he'd survived the looping mountain pass), Ushijima helped him dismount, and Shirabu did his best to ignore the warmth of the alpha's calloused hands.

Ushijima and Semi had left immediately, but Shirabu had decided to stay, stroking his horse's nose and reflecting on the situation he was in. Shirabu continued stroking his horse, and she nuzzled him happily in respond, licking his fingers. He leapt back in surprise.

"Do you want to name her?" a voice sounded from behind him.

He whipped around and found an odd-looking beta with dark brown hair and similarly colored eyes. "Pardon?"

The tall boy nodded to the horse. "She's yours now, I guess."

Shirabu frowned, wrinkling his nose. "I don't want her."

The boy tilted his head. "Scared of horses?"

"Of course not," Shirabu responded indignantly. "I just don't like them."

"Well, she's yours now, whether you like her or not. She's not from here. A rare breed for sure—you can tell by looking at her bone structure. Very light-footed, built for speed rather than bulk."

"You know a lot about horses," Shirabu commented.

"Well, I should hope so. I've spent more time around them than people." Shirabu could relate to that, he decided. Although with books, not with horses.

"And you are…?"

"Call me Reon."

"I see."

"Think about a name. It's easier to bond once you learn to communicate, and you'll probably need a name for that."

"Perhaps," Shirabu sniffed, slightly disdainful. He had never been a fan of the outdoors, and the stable's manure odor wasn't doing it any favors in Shirabu's books.

"You'll be thankful for a friend sooner or later. If you claim her, I'll let the other stable boy know not to let anyone else ride her."

Shirabu frowned at the idea of someone else riding the horse. Perhaps somewhere along the way he'd indeed begun to think of her as _his_ horse. "Alright, I'll think of a name and tell you tomorrow. I'm sure I'll have to go riding again." Reon dipped his head in a short semi-bow before moving onto his other stable boy duties.

Shirbau hesitated, before reaching up and stroking the—no, his—horse between her ears.

"Shirasu," he decided out loud. Her ears perked up. "Yes, you shall be shirasu." She licked his arm again, and Shirabu couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips.

His second official friend in the palace. She was a bit out of control sometimes.

Etiquette classes were pointless in Shirabu's eyes.

"Alright, what is the seating order at the dinner table when his royal highness is accompanied by the crown prince, her royal highness, two territorial barons, and two princesses, one minor and one major? Oh, and a visiting King from Seijoh."

Oh, this one wasn't too hard. "What kind of event is it?"

"Very good question indeed. It is a Kingdom event."

"His and her royal highness sit at the center. The crown prince sits directly to the right of the King, and the two princesses sit to the Queen's immediate left, with the major princess in the closer seat. The visiting King from Seijoh sits to the right of the crown prince, followed by the two barons in order of importance."

"Excellent. Very well done. And what if there were visiting kings from Karasuno and Dateko, what then?"

"According to the order of precedence, the visitng King from Seijoh sits to the right of Crown Prince Ushijima, followed by the King from Karasuno and the King from Dateko, in that order."

"Wonderful. It seems you pick up these lessons quickly!" His tutor clapped her hands together in delight. "Now, onto the practical points."

Shirabu learned how to hold chopsticks, how to properly use a fork and knife should the need ever arise, and how to subtly signal to his servers.

"And what does a crossed spoon and fork mean?"

"That you're finished for the night."

"And a spoon covering a fork?"

"That you're finished for the course."

"And a teacup with the handle turned out?"

"Refill please."

His tutor smiled. "Excellent. You have a phenomenal memory, that's for sure. I would like you to work on your utensil-handling. Your dinner with his royal highness is next week, so it's my job to prepare you for that. Work on maintaining the proper angle of your elbows, especially when cutting meat."

Using utensils properly was difficult for Shirabu. While he learned the basic manners expected of a minor omegan prince, there was no one to watch over him when he ate, and none of the other princes had bothered maintaining the a well-mannered front.

When he complained to Taichi, however, Taichi had just laughed and ruffled his hair. "If you want to be by Ushijima's side, you'll need to learn to be prim and proper, you know."

By the time dinner rolled around, Shirabu still had no idea where he was supposed to eat: he'd forgotten to ask Semi while they were riding (more like he'd gotten distracted by trying not to _die_ ). He slunk off in search of food, but had been unable to find the Northern-wing dining hall. Going back to his old dining hall was really not an option at this point, so Shirabu opted for skipping another meal, vowing to make it up with a massive breakfast. Going hungry for a night definitely beat having to fend off everyone else's questions.

The firelight reflected off of Washijou's wrinkles as he stared at the chess board. Shirabu had just called a checkmate less than twenty minutes into the game, shocking both Semi and Washijou. The old man peered up and down the board, before conceding: "Well then. It seems you've gotten lucky here, boy. Excellent set up though, I must say… Alright, again now."

Shirabu twirled Semi's queen between his fingers as he contemplated the most impressive checkmate. He could feel Semi's glare. Languidly, he nudged his castle into position. "Your move it is." Being able to see the sweat on Semi's brow dredged up a nasty sort of satisfaction, the kind that filled his chest yet made him feel so irrevocably guilty.

Three check mates later Washijou finally believed that Shirabu wasn't a fluke and that he hadn't convinced Semi to go easy on him. "What an unusual situation. A minor omegan prince," the old man muttered. "No magic, no power, no status, a peasant really… and yet… a brilliant mind."

Semi and Shirabu both scowled, with the former feeling insulted that Washijou had thought he was going easy. It just spoke to their difference in skill level.

They ran through more and more strategy games, many of which Shirabu had never even played before. He wasn't particularly bothered though. As long as he used his brain, the only asset that he had, he would be able to fight by Ushijima's side.

Ushijima. He'd grown up watching Ushijima—and really, how could he have ever watched anyone else? Shirabu could almost see his eight-year-old self, kneeling in soft white robes and staring out the library window at a young Ushijima Wakatoshi's first time wielding a sword. The sword turned into a machete, which turned into a spear, decorated with Shiratorizawa's iconic purple Royal Crest.

"SHIRABU, CONCENTRATE." A loud yell brought him back.

"Sorry, I was thinking."

"Not about the game," Washijou snapped.

"Yeah well I'm focusing now," Shirabu grumbled, picking up one of Semi's pieces that he'd captured earlier and placing it down on the board.

"Never allow your mind to drift like that in front of me again, do you understand?"

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of it. I'm still winning," Shirabu pointed out bluntly. Semi's scowl deepened. And once again, Shirabu felt a stinging blow on the side of his head, right above his left ear. He froze in shock, the smack sounding almost like he was just a spectator in another world. His eardrums rang as his ear _burned_. He'd never been hit quite like this before.

"It is a big deal. A strategist never drops focus from the game. Ever," Washijou snarled. He grabbed Shirabu's hair and yanked him forward, hard. "If you can't see the importance of focus and concentration, then you aren't fit to serve. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Shirabu gritted out. The blow wasn't bad physically, but it served as a reminder that drove Shirabu's mind closer to anguish: nothing would change. He could work and work and work and nothing would ever change. He didn't let anything distract him again for the rest of the rounds—not even the sight of Semi's scowl curling into a self-satisfied smile.

"Alright, let us review your performance tonight then." Washijou leaned back in his chair. "The bottom line is that you're too aggressive and hot-headed. What Shiratorizawa is looking for is not a self-aware strategist that takes great gambles and is influenced by emotion. We are looking for a level-headed, cool strategist that calmly analyzes the situation to determine the best possible course of action with weight assigned to the risks behind each plan."

"So the opposite of you," Semi supplied helpfully.

"Listen boy. Your version of you right now might be exactly what a smaller kingdom on the rise would need. But we are Shiratorizawa. We've been the capital for more than a century. What we value is pure, unadulterated strength that brings an enemy to his knees. Not your sly little tricks or risky, hot-blooded attacks. Understand?"

"Yes sir, I'll work on it," Shirabu mumbled.

"Excellent. I know you can do it. We want the Shirabu we saw in the monthly tournament brackets. Bring out that Shirabu. If you are unable, then I'm sure we'll be able to find someway to bring it out for you."

"I understand sir."

"Good. We'll call it a night then."

Shirabu recalled a quote from a scroll that he'd stumbled upon on his tenth birthday: "The bird struggles out of the egg. The egg is the world. Whoever wishes to be born… must first destroy the world."

 _And you are the bird_ , a voice whispered in his head. _Others are the egg. Semi is the egg. Washijou is the egg. Shiratorizawa Palace is the egg. You cannot fly by Ushijima until you can destroy them._

Shirabu hastily shook his head. No, he wasn't destroying them. That wasn't right. He was working with them.

That night, he slept fitfully in his too-soft bed covered by the stifling down-stuffed covers. He never would have thought that he would miss the harder mattresses and thinner sheets of the West Wing. It really was like two different worlds.

* * *

Um yeah this is the first thing I've written in awhile, so go easy on me please. I'm going to be uploading a much more refined version on AO3 later (you can find me under the same username there).

Ok so for those of you that are confused:

1\. Ushijima is the crown prince of Shiratorizawa, which is the current capital of the Miyagi empire. The capital changes every so often when one kingdom is able to display clear dominance above the others, but Shiratorizawa has been the capital for like the last century.

2\. Only the crown prince is allowed to share last names with the King. Semi is a palace nobleman's son, and because minor princes enjoy so little status, he's theoretically living a better life in a higher rank than Shirabu.

3\. There are two primary class distinctions in the palace: the first is your magic level and the second is the whole A/B/O stuff. Minor princes are princes without any magic, and Major princes are princes with magic. It's rare for the King to have an omega as a son because of his own powerful genetics and the fact that male omegas are rare.

4\. Miyagi is an empire that consists of multiple kingdoms (to name a few, Karasuno, Seijoh, Ougiminami, Shiratorizawa, etc.). Tokyo is another empire that also consists of kingdoms (e.g. Nekoma, Fukurodani, etc.). Each empire's emperor is the King of the kingdom he's from (so in this case, Ushijima's dad), but most people won't refer to him as an 'emperor'- they'll just know him as a king.

5\. Tendou will be introduced soon ok. And so will more Ushira interaction. And so will Shirabu's old- nah, let's not finish that thought; wouldn't wanna spoil anything :)

HMU if you guys have any more questions!


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